This morning, as I sat waiting for my yoga class to start, sitting more comfortably on my mat than I have since the transplant, I realized that exactly 4 weeks ago I was in surgery.
4 weeks ago I was unconscious, sliced open, pumped full of air. My organs were shifted and moved about. And my kidney left, forever.
4 weeks ago I changed someone's life.
And in the past 4 weeks I have been amazed, astonished, and blown away by how much a body, my body, my brother's body, can handle. How we can adapt. How we can heal.
How a part of me is hard at work somewhere else. Helping someone to be healthier than he has in a long, long time.
These past 4 weeks have been many things. Trying. Uncomfortable. Full of unknowns and doubts and trepidation. Plunges back into my dark side. But they've also been filled with hope. Appreciation. Gratitude. Feeling my body and my soul ease back towards center.
I can move again in class. I can imagine new projects. I can tackle the months of paperwork that's piled on my desk. I can walk a little bit faster every day.
But I can also step back when I know my body needs a break. I can let go and stop pushing myself so hard. And I can easily imagine when the scars are all that remind me of this experience. That, and my brother feeling well.